


There's You

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker Dean Winchester, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: First he falls in love with the donuts, then he falls in love with the cantankerous baker.





	There's You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smudgythoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgythoughts/gifts).



> A gift for the first Profound Bond Gift Exchange! I hope you like it, Cass! <3

Past the dark circles under her eyes, Charlie’s expression was one of pure gratitude when Cas handed the thermos to her over the counter.

“My savior,” she sang, then took a long draft of coffee, her eyelids fluttering in pleasure. She hummed when she put the thermos down. “Seriously, thanks, dude - boss has been a grouch this morning and our coffee’s even worse than usual because of it.”

“He pushed past me just now,” Cas said, looking over his shoulder to where a few tables littered the small bakery and a glass door revealed the busy street outside. “Does he usually leave so early?” 

Charlie frowned. “No. He’s usually the first one in and the last to leave. Family emergency or something, I think.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cas said, thinking of the frantic way Dean Winchester had shoved past him at the entrance to the bakery. “I hope everything works out.”

Charlie was about to respond when the bell over the door clanked hard against the glass. Her eyes widened at whatever she saw.

“Hey, you!” a rough voice shouted. Castiel turned, his brows rising.

The patrons of the bakery turned to look as the head chef and owner, Dean Winchester, stalked toward Castiel with a storm brewing on his face. “You own that ugly-ass Continental, right? You boxed me in!”

It took Castiel a few moments to recover, embarrassment pulling a flush up his neck. “I was only going to be in for a few moments.” He began digging for his keys in his pocket.

“A few moments too long,” Dean grumbled, then turned on his heel and headed back toward the door. He shoved the door open, then looked back at Castiel, his expression hardening again. He made a sweeping motion with his hand, as if to say _after you._

Cas bit his tongue despite the anger boiling in his veins. He would have said something if it were any other bakery, any other chef - but this was Charlie’s workplace and Charlie’s boss, so he merely closed his eyes for a few moments to gather himself, then walked out past Dean’s sarcastic bow, got into his car, and drove away.

 

He received a frantic phone call after the bakery closed from a mortified Charlie. Cas let her apologize for a few moments before he stopped her with a, “Breathe, Charlie. It’s fine.”

And really, it was. Cas was used to attractive men turning out to be jerks, and though he’d always harbored a long-standing fascination with Charlie’s boss, Cas was already over it. Sort of. (Despite the head he’d held up high as he stalked past Dean earlier in the day, Cas’s cheeks still burned with mortification thinking about it.)

“He’s usually not that big of a jerk,” Charlie tried to explain. “His brother was in an accident or something, apparently, and his dad wasn’t telling him which hospital they were at.”

Something like sympathy tugged at Cas’s stomach. “I see” is all he said, then changed the subject.

 

A few days later, Cas walked up to the bakery again with a healthy dose of dread, having been summoned by an unusually reticent Charlie over the phone. Maybe Dean had asked her to get the asshole with the Continental back in, and maybe when Cas walked in he’d get another reaming. If it had been anybody else but Charlie, he would have hung up the phone.

At the threshold of the bakery, he faltered when he saw Charlie laughing it up with Dean behind the counter. They seemed like old friends, and the smiling Dean looked nothing like the Dean that Cas had encountered a few days prior. The two companions both looked toward the door when he came in, and their expressions immediately sobered. Charlie offered Dean a patient smile, which only served to confuse Cas more.

Dean started walking toward him. Cas recoiled suspiciously. 

Dean snorted. “I’m not gonna toss you out or anything,” he said, then put a mug and a plate of pie on a table for two. “Sit. Eat. It ain’t poisoned.” And then the most amazing thing happened. He sat down too. 

Cas, after a few moments’ pause and with more than a little bit of trepidation, joined him. “I don’t understand,” he said slowly.

Dean ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Charlie told you why I left that day,” he said - not a question. “My dad’s an asshole.”

Cas frowned.

“But that doesn’t mean I get a pass to be an asshole too. So. Sorry.” Dean pushed the plate of pie a little closer to Cas. “Charlie told me you liked apple pie. Luckily for you that’s my specialty.”

Cas picked up a fork. “A bakery full of goods and it just so happens your specialty is my favorite?”

Dean was watching him eat. His expression was still grim. “What can I say? Maybe it’s fate.”

The pie was delicious - warm, crumbly, just the right amounts of tart and sweet. Cas got through about half of it before he thought to look up at Dean and say, “Thank you.”

Dean shook his head, but didn’t say a word. He sat there until Cas finished, then swept the plate away as he stood up. He clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder, then disappeared into a back room.

Cas looked at Charlie, who had been watching the whole strange interaction from behind the register. “Did you put him up to this?” he whispered.

She shook her head. She seemed speechless.

 

The next time Cas visited, it was to see whether or not Dean’s change of attitude would last. But when he arrived, Charlie informed him that Dean was busy in the back filling an order of macarons for a wedding.

The disappointment that followed was surprising, and he bought a donut to conceal the confused silence he’d descended in upon realizing he was actually _disappointed_ not to see Dean Winchester.

 

The donut was fantastic. It was dense and rich and chewy and probably the best donut Cas had ever had.

He came in the next day to buy another one, only to find that, according to Charlie, Dean had set one aside for him already, on the house.

“I told him how much you liked it,” Charlie explained. She handed the donut over to him in a paper bag. “Guess he’s still trying to make up for being an asshole?”

Cas stared at the paper bag in his hand. A sense of warmth was suffusing him, and he had a theory as to why. “Will you… do you think he’d come and see me?” he asked.

There must have been something strange in the way he said it, because when Cas looked up, Charlie had the tiniest half-smile on her face. “Sure thing,” she said, then disappeared into the back room.

It took a few minutes, but finally Dean appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. Charlie trailed out after him, looking absolutely delighted.

“Hey,” Dean said. “Wanted to see me?” His expression was unreadable, but it wasn’t unfriendly.

Cas held up the paper bag that held the donut. “Thank you.”

Dean kept wiping his hands on the towel. “No problem.”

They stared at each other. Dean wiped his hands. 

“Anyhow,” Dean said, looking at the back room, “I should -”

“Would you like to join me?” The words were out of his mouth before Cas could stop them, but it was hard to regret them when he saw the flush that lit up Dean’s cheeks.

Dean stared for another long moment. Then he turned to Charlie. “Make sure Kevin doesn’t burn my madeleines.” And he sat down.

 

There wasn’t a lot to say that first time, Cas being too overcome with the knowledge that he’d somehow developed an attraction to Dean Winchester to speak freely. But he kept going to the bakery, and Dean kept joining him at his table.

Dean started calling him Cas.

Dean started smiling.

And one day, Dean’s knee brushed up against Cas’s, and he didn’t move it. 

“Charlie, can you bring me a coffee?” Dean called. “And a donut for Cas!”

Cas winced. “Really, Dean, I shouldn’t.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend they’re not the only reason you’re still coming around.”

Cas dared to jostle Dean’s knee, just a little, delighting in the pleased quirk of Dean’s mouth. “Not the only reason,” Cas said quietly.

Dean’s gaze dipped down to Cas’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“Charlie’s here too.” 

Dean glared, and Cas was enamored. They were flirting. Cas was flirting with Dean, and Dean was flirting with Cas, and Cas had never been so lucky before.

“I guess you’re here too,” Cas said, putting Dean out of his misery with a wink. He broke his gaze to take the plate from Charlie when she came over. When he looked back at his companion, Dean was trying and failing to hide a blush behind his coffee mug.

 

The coffee didn’t stay. After tasting it himself for the first time since he’d first ordered it, Dean demanded Charlie find a new brew to sell, and Cas watched all of this happen in his usual seat with his usual order, often with Dean’s knee resting against his.

Cas began to spend more and more time at the bakery, treating it like his own personal restaurant with his own personal chef who took him often into the back and showed him the workspace. 

Cas was constantly amazed with Dean.

And, though it may have been Cas’s wishful thinking, the feeling seemed to be mutual.

“You seem happier,” Cas said one day, as Dean walked him to his car. 

Dean tried and failed to hide a smile. “Guess so.”

“Any reason?” They’d come to Cas’s Continental. Cas dawdled with his keys as he watched Dean’s face.

“Shop’s doing well, I guess,” Dean said, after a moment’s pause. He was staring at Cas like he was begging to be understood. “And uh, Sammy’s living with me now, so that’s an improvement. Things are - things are good. Real good.”

Cas nodded. “I’m glad.” He unlocked his car, trying to hide his disappointment. 

Dean stopped Cas’s hand when he reached out to open the door. “There’s you, too.”

Cas stared. “Sorry?”

Dean touched Cas’s face. “There’s you, too,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “You - you make me happy, too.”

Sometimes Dean took Cas’s breath away. He couldn’t speak.

Dean stepped away, dropping his hand. He was smiling softly. “So will you come tomorrow? And do the same?”

“M-make you happy, do you mean?”

“Yeah. And I’ll - I’ll do the same for you. If you want.”

“I want,” Cas said, breathless. His hands were shaking so badly he dropped his keys.

Dean picked them up and rose with a grin. Then he leaned in, no hesitation, and kissed Cas, all sweetness. It was soft and far too short. When Dean broke away, he was grinning widely. Cas couldn’t remember another time he’d seen Dean so happy.

Dean opened the car door for Cas and dropped the keys into Cas’s hand. “See you tomorrow,” he said conspiratorially, then closed the door.

Cas rolled down the window, still a little shellshocked. “See you tomorrow,” he repeated numbly, as he started the car. He wasn’t sure he could drive in this state, but neither was he going to sit while Dean Winchester was staring at him from outside.

Dean touched Cas’s cheek. “I guess your car’s not that bad.”

“I’m glad I boxed you in,” Cas said, because that’s all he could think of: would he be this happy at this moment if he hadn’t been so thoroughly miserable that day he boxed Dean in?

Dean’s smile grew softer, a little less smug. “Me too, Cas.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this with a bad case of jet lag, so can't be entirely sure of the quality. ;__;


End file.
